


The Importance of Impotence

by SeeEmRunning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Impotence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, coming to terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:20:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeEmRunning/pseuds/SeeEmRunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's impotent once his soul comes back to his body. Not that it matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Impotence

He doesn't know what's wrong with him, and until he meets Amelia, he doesn't really care. He hasn't been interested in sex for the sake of sex since Jess - with Ruby it was about fear and anger and hate and desperation, and though while he was soulless he fucked anybody willing with a pulse (and really, he was glad enough of his morals had remained that he'd never raped anyone), that didn't really _count_. Those made up the entirety of his sexual encounters since college, and they both ended in death and disaster, so it hasn't been high on his list of priorities. It's been so low, in fact, that he hasn't gotten a single erection since Death restored his soul.

Now Amelia's in his life, and she's kissing him and he's kissing back and touching her breasts and he's definitely interested in the proceedings, but his dick hasn't gotten the memo. It lays flaccid between his legs, and more and more of his attention is dragged away from the kiss as he tries to get it up.

"Everything okay?" Amelia asks.

"Fine," Sam lies.

Amelia reaches between his legs. "This says different."

Sam sighs. "I don't know. I haven't had sex in a couple years, maybe I'm slow because of that. Let me make you feel good," he tries, lying her on her back and sliding his head between her legs.

This used to be one of his favorite things to do. He could eat Jess out for _hours_ \- had, in fact, one Saturday before finals when they were both stressed out and needed to relax. He'd never eaten out Ruby, because their relationship wasn't one where they fucked for anything other than a quick release.

He still enjoys it. He loves the sighs and moans, the fingers grabbing at his hair, the taste on his tongue, the delicate flesh willingly giving way to his probing tongue. He loves the way her clit peeks out of her hood, the way she shakes, the way her thighs slam into his ears when he licks her _just so._

But once more, his dick isn't getting the memo. He makes her come three times before she's too exhausted to do anything more than fall asleep.

He takes himself into the bathroom, takes off his pants, and looks in the mirror. He's got a good body, he knows, muscled from his years of hunting, tall and lean, with a dick that's proportional and thus larger than average, at least when he can get himself hard. He reaches a hand down and wraps it around himself, and it's nice, but it's not quite how he remembers it being. He strokes a few times, experimentally, but there's no pleasure in it.

Over the next few months, it continues that way. Amelia tries to convince him to see a doctor, and so eventually he does. His blood comes back clean but for slightly elevated levels of sulfur, his urine tests come back perfectly normal, his prostate's just fine. Whatever it is, it's not physical. Sam tells her that and hopes she doesn't ask what happened to make his mind completely override his previously-sexual body.

She does. He gives a half-truth about being raped and tortured at his last job, which he refuses to name. She assumes it's government, and he doesn't correct her. He just holds her close that night, and the next, and the next, because now that he has a medical diagnosis, he can't pretend that this is normal and he'll wake up one day and be able to make love to his amazingly wonderful girlfriend. His heart breaks a little more every time he dwells on it, sure that no matter what she says she misses having a partner who can do what he can't. 

As time goes on, the insecurity eases but never leaves. They find ways to make it work. Sam eats her out, plays with her breasts, kisses her hard, makes sure she's satisfied. But she's not selfish; she finds way to make _him_ feel good, too, even if he can't get hard. She plays with his hair, experiments with other places on his body, learns to give massages and buys bottles of scented oils (as it turns out, he has a weakness for fingers digging into the big muscles of his shoulders), kisses him back and makes sure that he knows she's not going to leave him for so stupid a reason.

In the end, she's not the one to leave.


End file.
